


i've been watching you since the pyramids

by sapphiclemon



Series: Good Omens Bingo 2021 [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is called Azirafell, Blushing, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Meetings, I Ship It, I wasn't sure I was going to like writing this prompt, M/M, Pining, but I surprisingly enjoyed it, this is honestly meant to be very cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29061831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphiclemon/pseuds/sapphiclemon
Summary: Azirafell is enjoying a nice day in his bookshop. His quiet day is interrupted by his adversary, Crowley.-Azirafell was very confused and honestly, he didn’t actually know how to react.“So let me get this straight. You’ve wanted to become friends with me for six millennia and you’ve been too afraid to talk to me, but a mere human could convince you to walk into my bookshop, act like you own the place, and ask me out on an outing? A date?” he’d asked in absolute disbelief.-My second square on Good Omens Bingo. This prompt is "Occult Aziraphale"!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Bingo 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2144886
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37
Collections: Good Omens Bingo 2021





	i've been watching you since the pyramids

Azirafell wasn’t particularly a fan of hell.

Even though it was his home turf and he was  _ meant _ to like it, he really didn’t. He found it to be too smelly, too hot, and filled with too many incompetent beings. Not that he was competent himself, but he still found being in hell to be a general inconvenience.

Azirafell had been on Earth since the beginning; since Eden actually. And throughout that time, he’d been alone for most of it. He found that getting emotionally invested in humans was too tedious. He didn’t actually care about what was going on, on the surface, and he didn’t have to do too much demonic tempting because of his inattention; humans were smart enough to come up with horrors all on their own. Azirafell simply was able to spend his days in his bookshop, reading and glaring at potential customers. And occasionally tempting a poor human or two to engage in his wiles.

Azirafell did get lonely quite often. He didn’t have any lasting meaningful relationships, and like any lonely being, he craved one. He used human books as means to escape into brilliant, fantasy worlds that humans thought up  _ all by themselves _ . Sometimes those clever buggers were useful for something.

However, there was one being that has consistently been in Azirafell’s life. His adversary, Crowley. Crowley had been on Earth as long as Azirafell has, though they have never interacted or spoken in any significant way. When they occasionally ran into one another they would politely nod their heads and continue with their business. Their first and only meaningful interaction was in Eden.

Azirafell had been overlooking the humans leaving the garden from the top of the wall. He’d felt proud of himself for ruining God’s precious  _ humans _ . At that time he’d still felt such resentment against God for casting out him and the others, just for the sake of humanity.

He’d been hurt, still questioning why they never got free will, but the humans were gifted with it. Those questions never went away, Azirafell had simply accepted that they won’t ever be answered.

He’d been mulling everything that had happened to him and the other demons; wallowing in hurt was rapidly turning into a new normal for him. It was something that he didn’t particularly enjoy, but he acted as if he did, knowing that any good demon should enjoy feeling  _ bad _ .

But then, an angel of all things descended upon him.

He assumed that the angel in question would want to scold him, or smite him, or do something terrible to him. But instead, the angel opened his mouth and asked,

“What do you think will happen now?”

Azirafell had been shocked. It was near the last thing he expected from an angel. Speaking to a  _ demon _ ? It was unheard of. But that angel had done it; his orange hair and cloud-like wings coursing behind him. Azirafell couldn’t help but think he was beautiful.

He scrambled to respond and eventually came up with blurting out “I don’t actually know. They didn’t give me any real instructions. They just said to get up there and make some trouble.”

The angel had smiled at him. It was something genuine and Azirafell didn’t know whether to smile back or vomit at the angel’s feet.

“I’m Crowley, by the way. And who are you?”

“Azirafell,” he eventually responded after suspicious half-hearted glaring.

And they had stood in silence on the wall of Eden, well past the end of the first rain.

And Azirafell and Crowley had never spoken again. Not any conversation that was substantial or fulfilling.

But Azirafell remembered the angel. And when they saw one another throughout history, he would very often debate going up to him, trying to start a conversation. But before he could, Crowley would vanish.

Around the 1800s, Azirafell had given up trying to make a friend of the angel. The last he’d heard was gossip that there was an angel slumbering away up on the surface. Azirafell had thought it to be something petty. Something a respectable and sensible being such as himself should stay away from and ignore. And that he did (dubiously).

So when Crowley himself strolled through the front doors of Azirafell’s bookshop, Azirafell didn’t actually know how to react.

His mind obviously went to the obvious: the angel had finally been sent to smite him. 

Azirafell knew that if that were the case, as it most likely was, he would happily let the angel win. He would throw the fight.

Curiously, however, the angel didn’t smite him. He simply walked up to his cash register and looked at Azirafell standing behind it.

Azirafell was waiting to see what Crowley would do. But the two of them simply stared at one another.

“Hello Crowley,” Azirafell squeaked out after nearly a minute of awkward standing and staring.

“Hello Azirafell,” Crowley grinned at him.

“How could I help you? Were you looking for something specific?”

“Actually, I am looking for something,” Crowley said, appearing confident, “I don’t mean to be forward, but I find you nifty. I’ve been seeing you around for millennia, and yet somehow we’ve only spoken once. You have been a constant acquaintance of mine yet I know nothing about you besides your name and the fact that you like books. However, I would like to know more. You seem so so very interesting. Basically, what I’m asking, could we be friends?”

Azirafell stared at Crowley, wondering what just happened.

“Is this a trick?” he asked, voice rising.

“What? No! Of course not!” Crowley sighed. “Look, this is most definitely a surprise to you, but I’ve been trying to talk to you since ancient Egypt.” Azirafell scoffed and Crowley glared before continuing, “The only reason I’m here is because of a mortal friend of mine finally pushing me out my door, telling me to come here and ask you this. So, please? What do you say?”

Azirafell was very confused and honestly, he didn’t actually know how to react.

“So let me get this straight. You’ve wanted to become friends with me for six millennia and you’ve been too afraid to talk to me, but a mere  _ human _ could convince you to walk into my bookshop, act like you own the place, and ask me out on an outing? A date?” he’d asked in absolute disbelief. 

“Er, well, not exactly a date,” Crowley blushed, and Azirafell noticed, and Crowley noticed Azirafell noticed, “but otherwise, yes. That was exactly correct.”

They stood some more in awkward silence before Azirafell beamed at Crowley.

“Well dove, where do you think we should go?” he asked, acting like he didn’t notice Crowley falling over in relief.

“I’m not a huge fan of human food, to be honest. What do you think?”

“What would you say to some crepes, darling?” Azirafell asked, walking around to the other side of his counter, offering his arm.

“I think that sounds incredible, darling” Crowley replied, taking Azirafell by the elbow and hanging onto him.

The angel and the demon made their way out of the demon’s bookshop, both feeling absolutely content.

  
  


**END**

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Sorry for the awkward pacing of this but I could only fit so much! I hope you all enjoyed it!


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